


Blue Skies

by larxenethefirefly



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Secret Messages, resonance fanzine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larxenethefirefly/pseuds/larxenethefirefly
Summary: Ever since he was little, Hanzo had always dreamed of blue skies.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 11
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the resonance soulmates fanzine, and I'm thrilled I finally get to post it! This contains a bit more content than the one in the zine- character limits are a challenge- but I hope you enjoy it!

Ever since he was little, Hanzo dreamed of blue skies stretching endlessly above him.  
At first, he didn’t understand why. The skies were blue sometimes, but they were blocked by trees and buildings and walls. He knows. He checked every morning when he woke up. 

He was eight when his dreams finally started showing more variety, but the blue sky was always predominant. A small, run-down house framed by blue and dusty yellows and red. Bottles, lined up by an open window, that reflected the sunlight. Nothing familiar to his own house, to his own room. 

Two years later, Hanzo learned that it was because he had a soulmate.

It was an off-hand remark by a teacher— how dreams weren’t just random impulses, that they meant something. It was supposed to tie into symbolism, or allegory, or whatever the lesson was about, but Hanzo didn’t care. He raised his hand and asked what that meant.

“You dream of what your soulmate sees,” the teacher replied, eyes sharp. “What do you dream about, young master?”

He remembered when a cousin had fallen in love with a woman the elders didn’t approve of. The woman had been killed. The cousin had begged, pleaded, for her to live. After the deed was done, the man had never recovered, his expression always haunted. Sojiro said that he was reliving the last moment of his soulmate’s life, over and over, whenever he slept. There was a note to his father’s voice that Hanzo had never heard before— when Hanzo looked at him, he looked far away. He was too afraid to ask, but he learned a valuable lesson that day.

“Nothing,” Hanzo lied, and looked out the window only briefly. The sky was dark with impending rainfall. It had been for the past week. And the skies in his dreams had remained blue. In time, he would learn to hide this better— there were too many eyes, too many ears, for the truth. “I don’t dream.”

The teacher moved on. Hanzo did not follow.

That night he stayed up late researching soulmates. How some people were lucky enough for a face, a name, but all stories confirmed that they dreamed about what their other half experienced through their day. Hanzo thought about an endless sky, glass bottles, a woman’s voice singing in an unknown language from the open window of the house. He wondered what memories his soulmate dreamed about in return.

He wondered if his soulmate hated what he saw.

The idea was slow to take root. His days were filled with training, with learning, with everything but himself, and in his dreams he escaped. Sometimes he’d get images of schoolwork, or beer bottles lined up on stacked crates, but most of the time there would be a blue sky, stretching endlessly overhead.

He began to wonder if it was deliberate. If his soulmate purposefully showed him what he wanted Hanzo to see— either to help him escape or to hide something. In the late hours of the night he researched, combing through forums, blogs, and research papers about soul dreams to see if they could be influenced. Most of the results were inconclusive but they all agreed that if you looked at something long enough that, chances were, it would eventually come across. People shared stories of sending messages to their soul mates this way— names, addresses, or any way to let them know how to find them. Some took years to get the message; others took days. But an idea, once formed, was hard to let go of.

Hanzo wrote a simple message: _Hello, nice to meet you_. Every night before bed, he looked at it for fifteen minutes, willing for it to come across in his soulmate’s dreams. During the day he hid it where others would not find it, only taking it out in the hopes that his soulmate would see. For weeks there was no reply, just the new addition of a desert melting into the horizon. He was beginning to lose hope when, one night, it happened: a flash of a paper, with something written on it in English.

He didn’t rejoice. It could have been anything. But Hanzo continued his ritual until finally, two weeks after that first glimpse, he saw it. A piece of paper cradled in someone’s hand, tanned skin and bloodied knuckles and clearly masculine.

_My name is Jesse. What’s yours?_

Hanzo burned his original message, watching it go up in smoke. He had his suspicions, but to have them confirmed…

It didn’t matter. Hanzo would never be permitted to seek him— Jesse— out. He had to pretend that his dreams were nonexistent, to protect his soulmate and himself. If the elders found out, Jesse would be gone, and Hanzo... 

He would have to be very careful from here on out.

They continued to pass notes in secret, hidden in dreams and pieces of paper that were destroyed after their message was delivered. Over the next few months he learned, slowly, about Jesse. He was a year younger than Hanzo, lived in the States, and was an only child. They didn’t talk about their family- Hanzo figured there was a reason he never saw them in his dreams, and Jesse probably saw too much in his. Their correspondence was sporadic- sometimes they could pass messages for days in a row, others, it would take weeks before a reply was viewed.

It was fine. Mostly. 

Hanzo spent more time in the gardens, trying to show Jesse some of the beauty that he saw every night in his dreams. He did homework by the koi pond, spent his time meditating under the genetically engineered sakura trees (though he spent more time looking at the trees than actual meditation), and taking walks that happened to have the most scenic landscaping. When he could get away with it, he spent extra time in Hanamura after his tasks simply walking around, wanting Jesse to experience the love of his home. 

If his father noticed Hanzo’s new routine, he made no mention of it. One of his uncles did say that Hanzo seemed to be more distracted lately, but it got little notice. He still excelled in his studies, and he still listened to what they told him. There was no harm in choosing new spots to meditate; changes of scenery were only a benefit.

Jesse seemed to appreciate his efforts. Hanzo noticed diversity in his own dreams. Small, brightly colored flowers, animals that were native to the desert he called home, music that Hanzo couldn’t quite make out but appreciated nonetheless. Their conversations switched from things about themselves to things they enjoyed, wanting to impart a little joy to their soulmate’s dreams. Their waking moments may be getting worse, but they could give each other little comforts in this way. 

Despite that, he knew that less pleasant things bled through. His training, his family’s business. He watched as Jesse adapted Hanzo’s memories to his own life. Survival skills, fighting styles, even how to pickpocket. Hanzo wanted to tell Jesse to stop, that he didn’t want to drag his soulmate into this life. But who was he, someone with no choice, no freedom, to take that away from Jesse?

Even if it helped him along a similar path. Even if it led him into a life of danger.

So Hanzo watched and suffered in silence, helpless.

\---

“You ever wonder what your soulmate sees?”

Hanzo looked up at Genji’s words. Instead of doing his homework, Genji was hanging upside-down from his bed, staring into the middle distance. “I know mine spends a lot of time with friends and knows how to cook already. They’re really smart, too. I wonder if they think the same of me.” 

“They probably know you slack on your studies, just like you’re doing now,” Hanzo retorted. Genji made a face at him. “But I’m sure there are other qualities they like about you. They wouldn’t be your soulmate otherwise.”

Genji flipped back up, lying on his stomach as he peered over the edge of the bed. “What’s yours like? I bet they’re some boring nerd who likes to solve math problems for fun.”

The longing to tell someone hit Hanzo hard, and the temptation was nearly enough to spill his deepest secret. Genji would understand, surely— out of everyone in the family, Genji wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t try and use it against him.

But…

But the more people that knew, the bigger the risk. All it would take was one slip up, one innocent comment, and it would all be over.

“I wouldn’t know,” Hanzo said quietly, looking down at his papers. “I don’t have one.”

Genji didn’t respond, but a moment later Hanzo heard the scratching of his pencil. They spent the rest of their time together in silence.

\---

When Hanzo turned fifteen, his dragons manifested.

One moment Hanzo was sparring with his sensei, and the next two blue dragons roared to life around him and the training bot was reduced to nothing more than sparks and scrap metal. His sensei immediately summoned the elders, and plans were made for the binding ritual and lessons scheduled for control. They praised him for his gift of two dragons- such an event hasn’t blessed the Shimadas in centuries.

Hanzo went through the meeting in a fog, stunned at the power suddenly rolling under his skin. He was aware of them in a way he had never experienced before- minds beside his own residing under his skin, sending electrical shocks skittering up and down his spine. They ached to be free, to be unleashed onto his enemies- Hanzo could barely focus on what anyone was saying. His father seemed to be the only one who noticed his distress, frowning and asking Hanzo if he was alright.

He nodded. He immediately passed out.

Hanzo didn’t dream of Jesse.

He was surrounded by blue, but it wasn’t the blue of the desert sky. It was bright, electric, a force of nature that could not be corralled. He was hopelessly lost in the coils, screaming at them to let him go, let him free, he was not theirs to control. 

Ancient voices, echoed by distance and size, spoke to him. Hanzo fought against them- what words they exchanged until then he could not remember, but their meaning was clear enough: that Hanzo was their fated host, and he had to prove himself worthy of their power.

“There is only one who I belong to through fate,” Hanzo said back. “And only because I choose to claim them as such. You know as well as I that I hold your power and freedom in my hands. Release me, so that we may enter a partnership, or forever suffer in a prison of your own design.”

They seemed amused at his response but granted his request. When he awoke, he was surrounded by the elders, his father showing the first trace of concern towards Hanzo since he was three. “The contract has been made?” someone asked.

Hanzo could only remember his last words towards the dragons, and their agreement to his terms. A partnership- they would lend him their abilities and destroy his enemies, which in turn provided them sustenance while bound to the mortal realm. And in this way they would both achieve freedom: Hanzo through power, the dragons through memories.

He told the elders none of these things. Secrets were a habit by now.

Sojiro withdrew once more, and plans carried on without Hanzo’s input. Only when Genji found him later that night, wide-eyed with excitement, did he find out that he had been asleep for three days.

His mind immediately went to Jesse. He feared for what his soulmate dreamed.

Genji was hurt when Hanzo threw him out, but Hanzo didn’t care. He found the nearest piece of paper and a pen, desperately writing out an apology. Halfway through he froze, a different fear gripping him- his soul was bound to the dragons now. Had they replaced his bond with Jesse? 

No. No, he couldn’t think like that. If he didn’t have the dreams- if he couldn’t escape- 

Fate surely wouldn’t be so cruel.

Hanzo staggered to the sink, heart racing as he braced himself against the mirror. His left arm was still raw and aching from the binding ceremony. The dragons felt like lightning under his skin, their voices still roaring through his head.

Hanzo didn’t know what it did to Jesse. What he had felt, if he had seen anything. The fear that they had replaced the soulmate bond was palpable, but he had to hold on to hope. 

Until this point, they had mutually avoided showing each other their faces. Part of it was protection— if Hanzo didn’t know what Jesse looked like, he couldn’t be used against him. Another part was the paranoia that was instilled in him— if people knew what Hanzo looked like, his work as an assassin would be that much harder. Mostly, it was out of fear. What if Jesse didn’t approve?

None of those things mattered now. If Jesse was still there, he needed to know. If Jesse was still there, he deserved an apology.

This was the best he could do.

He didn’t know how long he stood in front of the small bathroom mirror, one hand touching the glass as if he could reach forward and touch Jesse as well. Eventually his own complaining stomach and the sheer exhaustion from the literal mental battle of wills he had undergone took its toll, and he dragged himself to the kitchen to grab something to eat. 

The cooks mostly ignored him, busy with preparing for tomorrow’s meals, but a few gave him a polite bow and didn’t say anything when he got in their way to make onigiri. It was one of the few things he knew how to make, but someone still put a serving of his favorite pudding by his elbow as he dozed at the counter. He took both and retreated to his room, seeing no one. The pudding was left outside Genji’s door; the onigiri he took with him. 

He fell asleep after eating, and Hanzo dreamed, and dreamed, and dreamed.

Jesse was still there.

He woke up relieved and aching from Jesse’s panic and fear. “It’s okay,” he whispered to the ceiling. “It’s over now.”

\---

Things changed after the dragons. 

There were no more trips to the garden. No more time with Genji. No more time for anything but the Clan, the Family, the Business. 

No more time for Hanzo, except in dreams.

He tried to shield Jesse from the worst of it. Quick assassinations, minimal bloodshed. But something must have bled through despite his best efforts. 

Hanzo knew that his soulmate was dangerous. Had to be, for Hanzo’s life wasn’t gentle, would never be gentle, and his soulmate could never be someone who would easily break. So, as Hanzo slept, he watched as Jesse walked into an enemy warehouse alone, drew his gun, and killed everyone inside.

Jesse didn’t say anything to him that night, but he didn’t have to. Hanzo knew it was acceptance. And as he awoke hard and aching, gasping into his pillow, he wondered if Jesse had ulterior motives in mind.

After that, he never tried to hide the uglier nature of his work. In fact, it seemed that the more creative the kills, the more Jesse seemed to appreciate it, if the glimpses he got were anything to go by. 

Hanzo should probably be concerned by the fact they both got off on the other’s acts of violence, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

They communicated more often, now. Even risked mail a few times. They each carried a token as a silent declaration for the other, and Hanzo had a flash drive buried in the back of his closet that contained a video of Jesse. It was a few minutes long and nothing more than a heartfelt letter, but Hanzo cherished it all the same. 

He wished he could do more. Jesse was free to claim Hanzo as his— he could and did brag about his soulmate, showing off Hanzo’s token at the drop of a hat. To Jesse, Hanzo was someone to be proud of, someone he didn’t need to be ashamed about. Jesse would always have to be a secret.

Until then, he carried his token with him always, a futile attempt at being close, a taste of freedom he could never have.

\---

Sometimes, Hanzo wondered what it would be like if he had been born into a different life. If he and Jesse would have touched each other by now if fate had been kinder. If they weren’t born with an ocean, a legacy, and split loyalties between them.

But those thoughts were dangerous, and ultimately useless- there was no point in dreaming about a life he could never have.

It didn’t stop the longing for more.

\---

Blackwatch came and swept Jesse up in the chaos.

Hanzo’s sins were many and great, but he had always expected that he would be the one to pay the toll when payment came due. Not Jesse. Never Jesse.

And yet, Jesse flourished in Blackwatch. Hanzo watched, torn between pride and guilt. He tried not to let it show in their messages— they still communicated as much as they could despite the increased danger. But Hanzo felt like Jesse was slipping further and further away from him. Until now Jesse had always been his, but now Jesse was something more. Something Hanzo could never be. 

He feared that the tighter he tried to hold on, the more he would drag Jesse under with him.

They had an opportunity to meet once, when Hanzo was at college and Jesse was on assignment in Kamakura. It was doable— while Hanzo was still under constant watch, it would be easy to sneak away. They could meet, spend the day together, see and touch and talk for the first time in their lives.

But it was too risky, in the end. Jesse was still considered a flight risk, and him meeting a known yakuza, no matter their soulmate status, would put him under too much scrutiny. And Hanzo’s absence would be noticed during that time, making it that much harder to communicate in the future. They reluctantly decided that it wasn’t worth the repercussions. 

And yet somehow, between classes, Hanzo spotted him across the street. He was sitting on the steps of the campus bookstore, looking for all the world like a student taking a break between classes. He met Hanzo’s eye and smiled, winking.

The crowd was the only thing keeping Hanzo moving forward, and when it finally dispersed, Jesse was gone.

\---

The contact was at his usual table at Rikimaru’s and Hanzo slid into the seat across from him. Almost immediately Hanzo’s usual order was dropped off at the table and he gave the server a genuine smile before turning to the contact. “I wasn’t expecting you for another week,” he said, ignoring the food for now.

The man shrugged. “Being called away for a month on business so I figured I’d drop by while I had the chance. Got the usual intel and a bonus, since I’m going to be gone for a while.” He passed Hanzo a plain envelope, who took it without looking. If the man noticed how Hanzo’s hands were shaking, he didn’t comment. “Safe travels.”

He left, and Hanzo ate his meal silently, the envelope burning a hole in his pocket. He didn’t open it until he was safely back in his room. 

Inside was a flash drive with information on the gang movements in Tokyo and a single brown pebble with amber flecks, polished smooth. It was from Jesse’s mission in Buenos Aires—Hanzo added it to the others. There were now four jars of stones lining the shelf above his bed, although the first one was still carried around Hanzo’s neck. Jesse’s tokens of affection, taken from around the world.

Hanzo knew it was risky, meeting a Blackwatch agent in public. But the man had been discreet thus far, and his cover story was ironclad. Jesse had made sure of it. The partnership was beneficial at surface level— the Shimadas were kept aware of what their rivals were planning, and the agent was paid a hefty sum for his ‘consultation’. In reality, Jesse and Hanzo could pass messages that couldn’t be conveyed in dreams, and Reyes had a spy that was watching Hanamura just as keenly as he did the rest of the city. 

It was dangerous, but Hanzo didn’t regret it. Not when he carried Jesse’s love over his heart, and had it watch over him as he slept. 

\---

The club was loud and crowded and filled with flashing lights. Hanzo wasn’t sure how Genji had managed to find it, only that he was once again found in the largest group of people, the hand not occupied by some neon monstrosity of a drink wrapped around the closest willing body.  
Hanzo gritted his teeth and pushed into the crowd, ducking limbs and drinks as he went. “Genji! Your absence has been noticed. You need to leave.”

Genji didn’t move, simply flipped Hanzo off and continued kissing his partner. Hanzo muttered a brief prayer for patience then grabbed the back of Genji’s shirt collar and yanked.

His brother squawked and flailed, but Hanzo kept towing him at a speed that ensured his brother couldn’t regain his balance before they made it outside. Genji swore the entire time but didn’t make an effort to throw Hanzo off.

“What the fuck?” Genji spat when Hanzo finally dropped him in an alley. “You said you could cover for me!”

“I did until you made the mistake of being photographed,” Hanzo replied. “And I’m sure your soulmate would not appreciate watching your… indiscretions.”

Genji sneered. “What would you know? It’s not like you have one.” Hanzo barely held his wince in. “Besides, we’ve discussed it.”

“You’ve talked with them? How?” Before Genji could complete the swear Hanzo grabbed him by the shoulders. “Genji. If they find out who they are, you know the consequences.”

Genji knocked his hands away and glared. “I’m not stupid. Paper only, burn after reading. We’ve even developed a code in case it’s discovered by accident.”

Hanzo took a breath to calm down. He knew Genji was grieving in his own way, and tried to gentle his words. “I am trying to protect you, but I can only do so much. And with father—”

“Fuck off, Hanzo. I’m not a child. Leave me alone.”

Hanzo grabbed for his arm. “Genji—”

His brother’s eyes were cold. “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Hanzo did.

\---

Sojiro died on a cloudless winter day. 

Genji didn’t show up to the funeral. 

Surrounded by family, Hanzo had never felt more alone.

\---

Hanzo’s phone rang between meetings, and he answered it without thought. “Shimada.”

_“Hanzo?”_

Jesse’s voice caused him to stumble to a stop, hand flying out to steady himself against the wall. He was lucky there wasn’t anyone in eyesight— he allowed himself only a second of weakness. “I told you this was for emergencies only,” he rasped, delighted and terrified.

 _“Don’t worry, I’m on a burner and impossible to trace. Are you doing alright, honey?”_ Jesse’s voice was gentle, and so, so needed.

Hanzo closed his eyes, willing the tears back. “You know the answer to that.”

 _“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could be there— this is the best we’ve got.”_ Jesse sighed. _“I had to tell Reyes about your father’s death.”_

“I know. He would have found out anyway.” Hanzo ducked into a room, cutting through it to make his way to the gardens. He avoided eye contact with any of the staff, lest they see more than he wanted them to. “I can’t stay on the phone for long.”

_“I know, honey. I know. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. I love the new haircut, by the way.”_

Hanzo ran his fingers through it self consciously. It was tradition, to cut your hair when you became head of the family. It didn’t mean he had to like it. “I know you’re lying but I’ll let it slide this time.” Jesse chuckled, and Hanzo’s heart ached at the sound. There was so much more he wanted to say, that he wanted Jesse to hear, but there were too many risks. “Thank you for calling.”

_“Stay safe, okay? Don’t let those vultures get to you.”_

Hanzo stopped beside a sakura tree, watching the light filter between the branches. “I’ll do what I can. Don’t get shot.”

_“I’ll do my best. Love you, Hanzo. See you tonight.”_

“The same.” He wished he could say it back. But even here he was not safe. “Goodbye.”

He hung up, cradling his phone close for a moment before putting it away and heading back to the house. By the time he entered the meeting room he had wiped the smile from his face, but for the first time since his father’s death the pressure lifted, if only for a moment.

\---

“We are beginning to worry about your loyalty, Hanzo,” Uncle Eiichi said with false concern. The fact that he had brought it up during a budget meeting was not a coincidence. He had expected to catch Hanzo off guard, trap him into a corner.

Hanzo met his gaze coolly. “Explain.”

“You know just as well as I that you have been ignoring the real threat to the family,” he said. At Hanzo’s impassive stare he elaborated further. “Genji has been straying further from the family and has been threatening to leave and find his soulmate. You know as well as I that we must not pollute our bloodline, and if his loyalties are divided—”

“Genji knows his place,” Hanzo said crisply. “He may have his distractions, but he always—”

“Consider this your first act as kumichō,” Eiichi interrupted. Hanzo, surprised at his gall, did not stop him. “Get Genji in line, or we will be forced to take care of the issue.”

Hanzo remembered his cousin. He remembered his father, whose final words were not for his children but a long-lost lover. He thought of Genji’s freedom, for everything he’d sacrificed to keep Jesse safe. He thought of the life he had spent in a gilded cage, a puppet to the people who claimed to care for him.

Hanzo sat. He considered. 

He knew what he had to do.

“I will need three days to prepare,” he said, quietly.

The elders were pleased, telling him that this was the right choice, that he was doing his duty as a Shimada, that this would be the best decision he could make in order to confirm his position as kumichō Hanzo sat numbly through it all until they left. Only then did he rise and move to his quarters, telling his guards that under no circumstances should he be disturbed for the next day.

Hanzo went to his desk and pulled out a paper and a pen. On it, he wrote a message. 

Then he sat in front of his mirror, the message visible in his hands. He didn’t move for hours.

Only when Hanzo was certain that Jesse would see did he finally stand, and send for food. He ate quickly, wrote another message, and sat back down in front of his mirror.

When the sun finally rose in the sky Hanzo stood, stretched, and crawled into bed. He knew he wouldn’t get a response until tomorrow, but if something happened…

If Jesse came too late…

The next day was spent preparing for the worst. He transferred all the money he could to new bank accounts. A string of safe houses was discreetly obtained. New identities were created and the others burned. He also compiled the evidence he needed to take down the clan in one fell swoop— proof of tax fraud, illegal betting rings, smuggling routes and storage areas, names, documents. He created three copies, one of which was to be released to several news stations if he didn’t access the file once a week, one to stay on his person, and the other to a secure site that only he could access. A bag was packed with only the essentials. 

Once he was done he went to the dojo, pushing his body to the limit in order to exhaust himself quicker. It worked— somewhat. It did little to quiet his mind.

Somehow, he fell asleep. Jesse and Reyes spent most of his dream arguing— he couldn’t make out what they said, but eventually Reyes seemed to give in. Then Jesse was in front of his mirror, hand held out as always. _I’m coming, Hanzo. Just hold on a little longer._

He woke up curled around his pillow.

Jesse would be here.

Hanzo spent his last day wandering in a daze, taking in everything he loved about his home. He bought his favorite tempura; lingered in the crowd, taking in the stalls and the people and the skylines. Fed the koi for the first time in years. Let the sakura petals fall and tangle in his hair, his clothes, and didn’t mind when Genji snapped a picture on his way to the bar of the night. They would be safe soon— Jesse had promised.

The attack came that night.

He had known that Blackwatch was dangerous— had seen enough through his dreams that Reyes and Jesse were an unstoppable force, and that they could get into anywhere with the right motivation. He had noticed the new guards on the nightly rotation before retiring to bed— had told them which areas to pay attention to, leading Blackwatch right to the doorsteps of the elders. He listened as they swept through the halls of his home, the sounds of fighting grew more and more erratic. Eventually a terrified maid came to fetch him, saying that his presence was required in the main hall.

He picked up his bag and followed her, and then—

Jesse smiled, as bright as the desert sky. “Hey there, darlin’,” he said.

—then Hanzo finally took his soulmate into his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a part of the digital bonus content, and focuses on Genji's feelings about the matter. This one also has some bonus content with some rough editing, so enjoy!

After the attack on the castle, Genji didn’t see Hanzo for three days.

He wouldn’t describe himself as a frantic person, but he was approaching it. The people who brought him here wouldn’t say he was a prisoner, but they didn’t answer questions and he couldn’t leave the room he was given. Genji wasn’t stupid- he knew Overwatch was involved in his family’s downfall. He had watched it on the news, watched as his family was arrested, as the full expanse of their criminal empire was revealed. No mention of him and Hanzo were made other than a brief comment that certain affiliates of the family were taken under witness protection.

No matter how much he hated his brother some days, Genji hoped that Hanzo had been spared. There was always something intensely lonely about him- he would spend time with Genji when he could, but there was always a yearning in Hanzo’s expression when Genji would talk about his adventures outside the walls, a desire for something more. Genji would try and ease it by telling stories, but as the years went on, the sympathy had transformed into pity. He couldn’t say why, only that one day he had just written Hanzo off as a lost cause. The few times he saw him outside of Hanzo showing up at his party of choice to fetch him, his brother had always looked empty.

Soulless, Genji sometimes thought. People said things about those without soulmates- that if they didn’t have one, then they must not have a soul for someone to match with. Serial killers, or psychopaths. It never quite fit his brother, but Genji didn’t have another word for it.

Something must have been looking out for him, because on the third day the door unlocked an hour before breakfast, and Hanzo walked into the room.

Genji only barely registered the sight of Hanzo in borrowed clothing before he bowled him over. “You’re okay,” Genji said, not bothering to hide his relief. “I thought you were taken along with the others.”

Hano awkwardly patted him on the back. “Of course I’m fine. Why? Did they hurt you in any way?”

“No, but they haven’t told me anything. Hanzo, what’s going on? Why are we here?”

Hanzo pulled away, turning to a man that Genji hadn’t noticed until now. “Jesse-”

“I’m sorry, Hanzo, but I gotta stay,” the man- Jesse? Hanzo’s guard?- replied apologetically. “I can give y’all some privacy, stay in the bathroom-”

Hanzo shook his head. “It’s fine. I understand.” Something passed between the look they shared before Hanzo turned back to Genji. His brother looked- relaxed. Happy, for the first time since they were children. Not many people could tell- Hanzo had a notorious resting bitch face, but there was a softening of the mouth, less tightness in his eyes. The smallest of smiles hovering just out of reach. He sat down on the sofa beside Jesse. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, otouto. But the more people that knew the greater the risk, and too much was at stake.”

Genji’s eyes widened. “You’re the one who-”

“We’re free, Genji,” Hanzo replied. “We don’t have to live under their control anymore.”

Something cold and dark settled in Genji’s gut, but Hanzo must have taken Genji’s silence for shock because he continued. “Jesse had offered to get us out before, but it wasn’t safe then. It never had been safe, but then I realized it didn’t matter. We would never be safe whether we stayed or not.”

Jesse must have recognized something in Genji’s face because he nudged Hanzo with his shoulder. Genji tracked the movement, something taking shape he didn’t care to know. “Han. I don’t think he knows.”

Hanzo didn’t even flinch at the contact, instead leaning into it. Genji’s wordless feeling grew heavier. “Sorry. It’s been a hectic few days. Genji, this is Jesse, a Blackwatch agent, former gangster, and my soulmate.”

The feeling grew, and grew, and burst.

“A soulmate,” Genji said flatly.

Both men across from him paused. “I… am sorry I lied to you,” Hanzo said, softly. “But it was necessary. If the Elders had found out Jesse would have been killed. I couldn’t risk it.”

“We figured it was safer the less who knew, at least when it came to Hanzo,” Jesse explained. He gave a fond smile to the man at his side. “I couldn’t shut up about him though.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I’m surprised no one did find out with how much you ran your mouth. We have- well, had, I suppose- enemies in the States.”

“Suppose fate was looking out for us after all,” Jesse replied, and Hanzo laughed softly.

Genji stood abruptly, startling the two. “Get out,” he hissed, fists clenched, ready for a fight. Hanzo noticed and abruptly stiffened, eyes wide in alarm. “Get the fuck out.”

“Genji-” Hanzo started, but Genji interrupted him.

“Get out!” he yelled. “You lied to me, you betrayed our family, you let everyone treat me like shit for years and punish me for not being what they wanted and then you turn around and do the same thing and expect me to be happy? You expect me to just accept that?”

There was a stunned, heavy silence. Hanzo was frozen, staring wide-eyed at him, while Jesse seemed to have reacted to the threat and was half-shielding Hanzo, a hand seeking a gun that wasn’t there. For a moment both parties stared at each other, then Hanzo bowed his head. 

“I deserve that,” he said quietly.

Jesse shot Genji a dark glare before turning to Hanzo. “C’mon, let him cool his head. He’ll come ‘round once the shock wears off.” The look he gave Genji clearly said or else.

Genji sneered. Jesse snorted and escorted Hanzo out.

He knew there was a minibar in the fridge, so he put as many bottles as he could fit into his pockets and opened the window. There was a garden attached to the hotel- he could easily escape and get drunk under the sakura trees. 

After all, no one expected someone to climb down twenty stories.

\------

Not to Genji’s surprise, the little bottles of half-rate sake and tequila did little to get him drunk. That came from the liquor store two buildings down. By some miracle he still had enough cash in his wallet to buy a bottle of wine, which had been drunk far quicker than it should have been. It had done the trick, though, and he was currently stumbling down a path in the garden, not caring where it led him.

“Not like Hanzo cares anyway,” Genji muttered, swaying. There was a fork in the road- it curved around a small pond that probably had koi in it at some point. Now it only held two swans and, strangely, a goose. It wasn’t a native species but he was too drunk to figure it out or decide on which path to take. Instead, he collapsed under a maple tree, the empty bottle thumping down beside him. 

“Fucking Hanzo,” he muttered, staring up at the leaves. “The perfect child, the golden boy, can never do any wrong. Even when he lies and manipulates people. Even when he betrays the family. He just gets to ride away into the sunset with his fucking soulmate while I, what? Get left behind? Forgotten about? Kept in another cage my entire life?”

The leaves held no answer and the swans ignored him on the other side of the pond. The goose had drifted closer, no doubt thinking he had food on him. He glared. 

“I don’t need your judgment!” he yelled. The goose didn’t react. “You just want to use me like everyone else, don’t you? Only want me for what I can give you, but never giving anything in exchange. Well, fuck you! I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone!”

He threw the empty bottle, but his aim was off and it splashed harmlessly a few feet away. The goose raised its wings and hissed nonetheless, before tiring of him and swimming away to harass the swans. Genji sneered and gave it the middle finger before collapsing to the ground again.

The leaves seemed blurry this time, and he wondered how it could be raining when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It took him too long to realize that it was because he was crying, and he curled up at the base of the tree, sobbing. But finally, his thoughts were quiet, and he fell asleep under the shining red leaves of the maple.

\---

When he finally entered the hotel, the desk clerk was gone, and the few patrons lingering in the lobby stared openly. He knew he looked a wreck- his eyes were dry, his clothes dirty from mud and leaves and spilled wine, and his head was pounding from crying and the alcohol. He avoided their eyes and entered the elevator, hesitating when he realized that he didn’t know which floor his room was on.

Thankfully, the attendant seemed to know for him, and soon Genji was stepping out on the twenty-fifth floor, where two agents were waiting for him. They didn’t say a word, just guided him down the hallway. Shame and resentment churned in his gut when he realized they had probably known where he was this entire time, if not witness to his breakdown by the pond.

It was a surprise when the door they brought him to wasn’t the room he had been staying in, but a large suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated the living room and kitchen area with the light from the setting sun, and there were at least four doors leading to various rooms. He wandered in, intending to find which one led to the bathroom when he saw the figures entwined on the couch and froze.

Hanzo and Jesse were fast asleep, curled up together with the former playing little spoon. Now that Genji was paying attention it was clear that Hanzo was in Jesse’s spare clothing- the too-long pants, the too-small shirt across the shoulders and chest, the Blackwatch logo on the sleeve. They seemed peaceful, Hanzo’s face calm and unworried. 

“Sappy, isn’t it?”

Genji whirled to see a man sitting at the dining table, unconcerned with the company. “At least you didn’t have to suffer three years of McCree’s heartsick mooning. I swear every morning he’d spend at least three hours waxing poetic about what Legolas over there had done. I was about to come here and drag him back to HQ myself to spare us all the pining if he hadn’t done it first.” He snorted. “‘Course, now that they’re together you can practically see the hearts coming out of their eyes. Disgusting.” Despite his words the tone was fond, and he sipped at his coffee with a wistful look in his eyes.

Genji hesitated. “You’re Commander Reyes, aren’t you?”

“The one and only. Nice to meet you. I was hoping you’d be the sensible one, but when you ran off this morning I had to let go of that dream.” He gave Genji a pointed look, but it wasn’t a threat like he was used to. Instead it reminded him of Father, of how he could convey all his disappointment in one tick of his eyebrow. He flushed and looked at his feet.

Gabriel sighed. “Look, kid, I’m not angry. A lot has happened and you only found out about most of it today. But Hanzo did the right thing, and you know it, too, or else you wouldn’t have come back.” He stood to put the now-empty mug in the sink, then jerked his head towards the door. Genji followed, taking one last look at the slumbering duo before stepping into the hallway.

He was led back to his room, where food was waiting on the coffee table. His stomach rumbled, but before he could go to it Gabriel stopped him. “Hanzo made us promise not to tell you, but I’m not wrapped around his finger like Jesse is. He did all this for you. They told him to kill you, and he refused. Told Jesse that he’d give us everything, even fight for us, if we saved you.”

Genji couldn’t breathe, staring at Gabriel in stunned silence. The man continued. “I wasn’t gonna do it. Told Jesse that we had no jurisdiction in Hanamura, that to do so would piss off not only the Japanese government but cause all sorts of problems with the UN. The ingrate played dirty and went to Ana instead. The only reason you’re here right now is because Jesse loves Hanzo, and because Hanzo loved you enough to sacrifice everything to save you.” He nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations, you’re a free man now.” 

Gabriel left the room whistling off-tune. Genji didn’t move until his stomach forced him to.

He ate mechanically before moving to his still-open window. Night was rapidly falling, and he watched as the street lamps flickered on one by one. It was fully dark by the time he finally collapsed in his bed, mind whirling.

Free. He didn’t know what that word meant.

But he then he thought of Hanzo, how he seemed at peace with Jesse near. Thought of them sleeping on the couch without fear of the consequences. Thought of his own soulmate, how they were going to change the world for the better, and how he felt when they talked. How he could choose whatever path he wanted without fear of punishment or retribution.

Freedom, he thought, sounded a lot like hope.


End file.
